Secretive
by mixthealphabet
Summary: Soul might be changing his mind about Mondays, after all.


**Secretive** by Larissa

Lucky I'm in love with my best friend  
Lucky to have been where I have been  
Lucky to be coming home again

* * *

Soul, like most people, disliked Mondays.

The day was just too damn long, with its ridiculously early waking hours, homework to be delivered and the necessity of getting back into a routine. It was the dreaded beginning of a new week, reminding him of all the tasks that needed to be done, but that had been ignored the entire weekend.

Mostly, though, Soul hated how it meant waking up to an empty bed.

At eighteen years old, it wasn't difficult for the boy to understand what others may think if he was ever foolish enough to voice such complains. Black Star was living proof of that, always jumping to the most appalling conclusions every time Soul let something slip.

If his best friend had gone crazy with all the little touches between Maka and her weapon, Soul didn't want to even imagine what would happen if he found out they slept in the same bed.

It had been like that for about a year, after a night of nightmares and tears; she had been crying because her mother had, once again, failed to keep her promise of visiting, but her sobs hadn't stopped Maka from hearing him whimper, dreaming about the Little Demon for the first time in years. What followed was still a blur of tracing fingers and shallow breaths.

His memory of the next morning was clear, though, for Soul could remember to this day how her hair was falling above her eyes as she stretched lazily, too sleepy to notice his body against hers. In that moment, despite how comforting her presence had been, the boy hadn't been able to focus on anything but how incredible it felt to have her pressed into him.

It had almost made the subsequent Maka chop worth it.

But Mondays meant having separate classes and not being awake to see the light blush that still crept into her face every time Maka realized how close they'd been during the night, tangling into each other in spite of all their attempts to maintain a respectable space between them.

Limits had never been a strong point in their relationship and it was too late to try to change that now.

Even though he was usually thankful for this little fact – how he could hold her hand, kiss her hair, touch her waist and not be questioned about it –, there were moments when her acceptance of his actions was a little too much.

How were they supposed to move forward if every step he took felt like running in place?

Soul knew she felt something for him. Maka had never been good at lying, nor at hiding things from her weapon. As they grew up, her attraction to him had gone from distinguishable to obvious, apparent in the way her eyes traced his form or how she flushed in embarrassment with every single innuendo he made.

And the boy knew his own emotions.

He knew what his racing heart meant, he was aware of the effect she had in him and how she was pretty much the only girl able to infuriate and arouse him at the same time. Soul wasn't even trying to hide it, being as blunt and controlled as he'd always been.

But exposing himself was never that easy and he wasn't about to just go up to Maka and confess.

Soul groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow.

Feelings were so uncool.

His meister meant everything to him, just as he did to her. His thoughts on that matter had always been quite clear, for he'd said more than once that he would follow Maka wherever she went. Their trust in each other, their friendship and affection were aspects of their relationship that few still questioned.

They were friends, though a little more than that. They were a couple, though still not quite.

They had what many people searched for their whole lives, but the easiness that had been there since their beginning, building them up to what they were now, was exactly what was holding them back.

Change was always difficult.

"I think we're gonna have to be secretly in love, and leave it at that." Soul muttered to himself, finally rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

And, then, he gasped as grayish blonde blocked his vision, feeling something press down onto his lips.

"You're not as secretive as you think you are, Soul." Maka whispered against his mouth, before standing up straight and throwing him a wink as she left.

Soul blinked, his lips tingling at the absence of hers. A smirk made its way into his expression.

Soul might be changing his mind about Mondays, after all.

* * *

I tried to make it fluffy and light, a bit different from my usual angsty tones.


End file.
